


A Softness Nobody Sees

by toodelicatee



Series: Poor Savage Things [3]
Category: Lost
Genre: Cancer, Father-Daughter Relationship, Surgey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toodelicatee/pseuds/toodelicatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No man is an island, which means Ben's battle against the tumor on his spine isn't just affecting him. </p><p>-</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Softness Nobody Sees

**Author's Note:**

> This part is an intimate look into the soft side of Ben that he reserves only for his daughter. I was thinking while writing it that perhaps Ben might not be an affectionate and doting Father but then I thought of course he would be. We already know he wanted Alex's love but never really got it due to her knowing about his cruel streak. However we see him on the swing when she is young and he's awestruck. In the canon of this fic Elenora still doesn't know about her Father's dark side so she has no reason to be repulsed by him yet. That is why their relationship is so loving and warm during this. So if you think Ben would be cold toward her I really don't think he would be. He'd be incredibly soft and gentle imo.

Ben watches his daughter carefully, the blonde curls on her shoulders, her face lovely and content. He wants to soak this scene in while he can, and ignore the fact he is about to ruin it. Like he ruins most things.

She's sat at the dinner table twirling pasta round her fork. There's a look in her eyes full of light that he's about to destroy.

"Can I have a word with you, Nora?'

"Yeah, 'course," she slurps up the piece of pasta hanging from her mouth and he can't help but smile, his mouth cracking into happiness.

Ben gets the feeling that his daughter could stop the break of a storm, that in vast darkness she could stand up and start a wonderful burning fire. For him she's the only anchor. The only goddamn good thing left.

"Listen, sweetheart," he sits down on the seat next to her, "there's something I need to tell you."

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

Her calm expression twists and contorts into a thickset anxiety. He's killing himself inside for what he's about to do. His daughter, at the tender age of ten, is magnificently compassionate for. He admires her disposition, with the same strength in which he despises his own.

"I've avoided telling you for a few weeks now and I'm very sorry, Nora, but I was afraid-"

"Dad, are you all right? Please just tell me."

Ben shifts awkwardly in the chair. He feels sick, though there's something comforting about her worry. He's always imagined an empty funeral for himself but looking at the fear etched deep into her features he knows that's unlikely. It's deranged, perhaps, but he's glad she's terrified. She's the only person left to care about him.

He takes her hand and holds it in his own. Much to his horror he finds that her's is shaking.

_God, this is killing him._

"I have a tumor on my spine; and tomorrow I'm going into surgery to have it removed. I-" he bows his head, bows it like a kicked dog, "I didn't know how to tell you."

Her composition breaks entirely. She comes undone in front of him. Huge blue orbs spring rivers down her cheeks, her lip trembles like a sorry song, and she's shaking her head as though any part of this were in her control.

"No, you can't-" she's crying, biting at her lip so hard it bleeds.

"Hey, hey," he chucks her chin, "don't worry so much about me."

Elenora looks up at him with blood dripping down her chin from her cut mouth and a look like pure agony in her iris'. Ben can't stop the idea forming that this feels good. Seeing her grief, for him and him alone, fills him with meaning and importance.

He pulls her up onto his lap and holds her while she sobs her heart out in front of him.

"But you'll be fine though, won't you? You'll be ok after the operation?" it's not like she's asking; it's like she's begging, demanding reassurance.

"Yes," he lies- in truth he has no idea, "yes I'll be fine."

"Promise me, please."

He has nothing left to give her but this one lie, and he gives her it so easily, the untruth falling from his lips like running water: "I promise you, darling. It's not even cancerous. I'll be with you again in no time."

He has absolutely no idea whether or not this ugly growth, this beast on his spine is cancerous or not. But he can't be responsible for her tears another second longer, so he makes her up a lie and hopes she swallows it.

-

Ben can feel his consciousness fading in and out. He feels his eyelids grow heavy, barely noticing Jack cleaning instruments.

"Juliet," Ben lifts his head up, "Did you see my Nora, did someone tell her where I am?"

Juliet nods, and speaks coolly, "She was hysterical. She hasn't stopped crying over you, Ben. She was going to do harm to herself.. Tom sedated her, for her own safety."

Ben felt that familiar wave of relief flood his body; he liked being loved like that, "Keep an eye on her when she wakes. Make sure she's ok, don't leave her on her own."

"Didn't you tell her you had a tumour, Ben?"

"Yes," he says.

"Then, why-"

"I told her it wasn't cancerous. And that I was going to be fine."

"Who's Nora?" Jack looks between them, as thought attempting to collect whatever knowledge he can, like scrapings of evidence, something to hold against them.

"Elenora. She's my daughter," Ben's too drugged up to even lie.

"You shouldn't have told her that; nothing's guaranteed. Why d'you do it?"

"Because I'm her Father. Because she was crying," he mutters, and then the last part he says to himself as he puts his face down into the opening, "because I love her."

-

When the surgery is finally over, Ben waits with an excruciating sharpness skittering his spine, for company. So far he's grown accustomed to just Jack's indifferent check ups.

He's on a wide array of drugs, a medical cocktail. They keep him well under and give him peculiar dreams. Some of them feature Annie's ghost, either convulsing or screaming at him and blaming him. Others feature his Father's cold corpse turning to rot, and others are about Elenora crying over his own dead body, dragging it out across the lawn and burying it.

"Elenora?" Ben asks when he hears the door opening.

"No it's me," Jack's voice sounds, "I've came to change your stitches again."

The doctor's hands are callus on his back and firm, like they hate him.

"Has she asked about me?"

Jack's voice sounds like it's filled with a smirk, either mock or repulsion. Like he's deriding him over something.

"How should I know?"

Ben sighs, and doesn't speak again, unwilling to give anything else away.

-

Ben wheels into the room, finds his daughther sat on the bed, red rimmed eyes and sniffling. She's reading a book and drinking a mug of what's probably hot chocolate. He watches her for a long minute, remembering Juliet's words. She hasn't stopped crying over you, Ben.

"I hope you're still not weeping for me," he says casually, as though his own throat isn't swollen with a lump. Of course it is.

She snaps her head up immediately; it's surprising she hasn't given herself whiplash.

"Dad!" Elenora pounces across the bed and dives off the foot, she wraps her arms around him and sobs. "This isn't hurting you, is it?"

"Oh no, sweetheart,' he strokes her hair with her face nestled into his chest, and she swings her legs up so she's folded up on his lap, 'you're not hurting me at all."

People might spit insults behind his back, call him crazy, speculate that his hearts made up of stone or bark. But around his child, if they were to see that side of him, they'd know different. He loves her like the sun, loves her with everything he has inside of him to love her with.

"How do you feel?" she manages coherence eventually.  
  
"Much better, now I've seen you,"

"Do you hurt anywhere?"

"No," he lies.

"I love you," she kisses his forehead gently, "you told me it wasn't cancerous."

He closes his eyes at her tenderness, "I was trying to protect you, I didn't want you to worry."

"They wouldn't let me in to see you; I didn't get to tell you before, I didn't get to tell you I lo-"

"I knew Nora,' his heart swells, prepares itself to slobber out his mouth, 'and I love you, too."

'Can you stay with me tonight?"

Ben smiles, "Yes, I would like that very much."

He stops beside his bed and she gets off his knee. Ben puts his hands on the sides of the wheelchair and pushes himself up.

'No, let me help you,' she puts her hands under his arms and gently pulls him up. It feels bizarre to be the fragile one.

He falls forward a little, into her chest, gripping on her shoulders as lightly as he can but still hard enough to be supported.

'It's ok, I've got you," she whispers softly, taking a fair amount of his weight and lowering him into the bed. He feels like a child, as though they have swapped roles. She doesn't seem to mind.

"Thank you dear," he exhales slowly, the pain settling as he sinks his head back.

Once he is comfortable there she slips into the bed too, putting an arm around his belly and head on his chest.

"If you want some water tell me and I'll get you some. I don't have any here now."

"Why're you so good to me, Elenora? It's not like I deserve it."

"I think you do," she says simply, "but you should really try and sleep."

"Yes," he closes his eyes, "and you too; you've had a rough few days as well."

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you like this?"

Her compassion resonates from her in gentle waves. Most children are self consumed but she's grown fast, she's had to. With only adults for company (no one is born on-island) Elenora has developed kindness and care beyond her years. The pride gnaws at him; it feels pure.

"No, you are fine Nora."

"Good night then, Dad."

"Sweet dreams my darling."

-


End file.
